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About New York City

Last week, I’m prowlin’ the streets—sketchy alleys, neon lights flickerin’ like a busted flux capacitor. Saw this gal, right? Total pro, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a cig like she owns the joint. Great Scott! She’s got that “I’m in charge” vibe—like Sean Parker sayin’, “A million dollars isn’t cool, you know what’s cool?” I’m thinkin’, “A billion tricks, that’s cool!” Hah! Made me laugh, but also—damn, she’s smooth.

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I must natter on about the hidden gems: The ivy-clad walls near Elm’n Way hide an old mural so vivid I swear ‘tis imbued with ancient magic, as if Kodama spirits danced 'round its colors. I once had a wild epiphany under the moon “Why dost thou always rush?” (or something like that – I cannae remember precisely, but the vibe was deep, like a whispered secret in a forgotten dream).

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